


Friday Night Lights

by Zeiskyte



Series: Soft Goro Week 2020 [3]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: #SoftGoroWeek2020, Futago Siblings, Gen, M/M, Marching Band AU, Rival Drum Majors to Friends to Lovers, Robin and Loki are Goro's fish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-18
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25339192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeiskyte/pseuds/Zeiskyte
Summary: Goro, Akira, and Sumire were Shujin Academy Marching Band's drum majors. In typical trumpet fashion, Goro detested Kurusu being head drum major. Kurusu was his underclassman; what right did the alto sax have to usurp the position Goro had been vying for all three years? It was extremely unfair and aninsultto his seniority.He hated Kurusu and his idiotic gestures of friendship. So why the hell did he look forward to Friday Night Lights and Kurusu's dumb smile?Written for #SoftGoroWeek2020 Day 6: Gorb and Fun AUs!
Relationships: Akechi Goro & Sakura Futaba, Akechi Goro/Amamiya Ren, Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist, Background Isshiki Wakaba/Sakura Sojiro
Series: Soft Goro Week 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1877380
Comments: 22
Kudos: 33
Collections: Day 6 - Gorb and AUs





	1. The Week Before The Competition

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write a Star Guardian AU but my wrist tendonitis started acting up again so I went with something lighter instead. I typed 92% of this with one finger so it took much longer than usual. I'm breaking this into two chapters so my wrists don't break. Also I'm sorry for contaminating another fandom with a marching band AU.
> 
> Note: Wakaba and Sojiro are married and adopted Goro when his mother died so he's Sakura Goro for this fic. Wakaba and Mamakechi knew each other and were both used by Shido, so Goro and Futaba are half-siblings by blood.

Goro, Akira, and Sumire were Shujin Academy Marching Band's drum majors. In typical trumpet fashion, Goro detested Kurusu being head drum major. Kurusu was his underclassman; what right did the alto sax have to usurp the position Goro had been vying for all three years? It was extremely unfair and an _insult_ to his seniority.

Of course, Yoshizawa's appointment to drum major as a first year should have been just as vexing, if not more so than Kurusu's. The tenor sax player had marched competitively throughout junior high while also staying committed to joining Shujin's own band, so she was certainly fit for the position. But - and Goro's brain _loved_ to add the 'but' in these sorts of musings - _she was still a first year_. At least she wasn't offered the position of head drum major just to screw Goro over any more than he already had been. And besides, Yoshizawa respected his seniority and treated him quite amicably.

Kurusu, on the other hand, acted as if they were _friends_. What an absolute load of bullcrap. Kurusu would pat Goro on the back when they would switch podiums, and Goro never wanted to burn his uniform more. Luckily for Goro, the red gloves of SAMB's uniform provided enough of a barrier between Kurusu's ~~warm~~ hands and Goro's back. So - when he would stand on the main podium with his arms poised to conduct, Goro's heart would pound with pre-performance anxiety and _definitely_ not the lingering warmth of Kurusu's hand.

Because that would be _ridiculous_. He hated Kurusu and his idiotic gestures of friendship. So why the hell did he look forward to Friday Night Lights and Kurusu's dumb smile?

Goro shuffled into his house, toeing off his sneakers at the door. He much preferred fancier shoes but sneakers were mandatory for practice. When he wasn't conducting, he was somewhere on the field instructing marchers on their technique, adjusting their positions to better fit the form, or passive-aggressively reminding that one freshman clarinet to actually bring his dot sheet to practice because _so help me god, you've been screwing up the past four sets_.

He walked towards the kitchen to greet his parents. Wakaba and Sojiro stood by a pot on the stove, arguing playfully over whether adding an additional spice would throw off their traditional curry recipe. Apparently Wakaba had discovered it being sold at a corner shop on her walk back to Yongen-Jaya, and she wanted to test how it affected the flavor. Sojiro, more staunch on the original recipe, insisted that they had already invented the best curry already.

"But Sojirooooo," the raven-haired woman pleaded, and Goro could see Futaba in her place. "This is _my_ recipe. I say we put it in!"

Sojiro crossed his arms across his apron. "Wakaba, you _know_ Goro can't do spice." He stirred the pot a little, breaking off eye contact with his wife. "Besides, our recipe tastes fine as is."

Wakaba held the silver packet in her hands like a gremlin with a mischievous look on her face. Yep, Futaba was _exactly_ like her mother. She was leaning forward, attempting to dump in the packet before Sojiro could stop her and-

"Hi mom, dad," he waved from the doorway, widening his eyes slightly and pouting to seem more innocent. "Please don't add spice to the curry, I might die if I eat it."

"You heard the boy," Sojiro grumbled, and Wakaba placed the packet on the counter with a similar pout. "Dinner will be ready in an hour."

Goro nodded at the same time his mother asked, "How was rehearsal tonight?"

He strained a smile. "Fine," he swatted the air with his hand, "same old, same old." He gestured towards the stairs, letting his smile fall. "I hate to cut this short but I have homework I-"

"Don't let us hold you," Wakaba cut him off with an - apologetic? He could never tell - waving of her arms. "Check on your sister before you do, though."

"She hasn't left her room all day," his dad said, his usual gruff tone softening when talking about Futaba, "she's still sick as a dog and bummed about missing rehearsal tonight."

"I'll head up then," he said with a nod, making his way past the kitchen and up the stairs. When he arrived at Futaba's room, the door was shut. He raised a fist and rapped it against the wood gently. "Futaba? Can I come in?"

A loud sneeze could be heard from the other side of the door. "Don't, unless you have an antivirus program."

While Goro knew he didn't have one, he still opened the door in a slow motion. Stepping into the room, the lights were off and the green displays of Futaba's triple monitor set-up were the only illumination present. In the darkness, he could make out a cocoon on the bed.

"Can I turn on the light?" He asked quietly. "And bless you, by the way."

 _Sniff_. "Sure. And thanks."

Goro flicked on the switch, bathing the room in artificial white light. His sister winced against the light, squinting as her eyes adjusted. Goro leaned against one of the rare patches of wall that was void of any posters or charms. "Feeling any better?"

The orange-haired girl pulled her bundle of blankets tighter around herself; it looked like she was wearing a sleeping bag, if anything. "A little," _sniff_ , "how was rehearsal?"

He huffed a laugh. "I did more work on the field than conducting. We barely touched my song."

"Sorry," she said. "Did you miss me?"

Goro rolled his eyes. "Of course I did." He then sighed. "But... I was quite preoccupied with a certain _someone_ today."

Futaba, who had seen her brother in band rehearsal and out, knew where this was heading. "Akira distracting you again?"

"Yes, he was-" Goro's eyes widened, realizing what he had just said. Futaba snickered as he attempted to recompose himself. "Ugh. I hate you. Anyway," he put a hand on his hip, "Kurusu is trying to act all - eugh - _friendly_ to me. It's like he knows I hate him for taking head drum major from me and is trying to sweet talk me into liking him."

"You don't think he genuinely just wants to be friends with you?" She asked before sneezing into a tissue. She rolled it into a ball and threw it into the garbage basket across the room with an enthusiastic whisper of ' _Kobe!_ ' before continuing. "You two and Sumire need to work well together. If you hate him, it isn't going to work."

Goro frowned stubbornly. "I hate him and his dumb smirk and his need to show off all the time. I mean, have you _seen_ his salute?"

"I like it," Futaba shrugged from under all her covers, "it's very _Akira_." After a moment, she gasped. "I got it! You hate him because _you_ wanted to do the salute this year!"

He narrowed his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. The salute is dumb and I wouldn't want to make an idiot of myself in front of everyone."

"No," his sister smirked deviously, garnet eyes glinting. "You would have done a _Featherman_ pose and insisted that," she lowered her voice in a mockery of his own, " _No, it isn't from that kid's show, I made it up myself_."

Goro scoffed. "Whatever," he felt his face heating up and he averted his gaze to the ground. "Dinner will be ready in an hour. I have homework to do."

"Later, loser!" Futaba said loudly. She then scampered across her bed for her tissue box, sneezed into a tissue, and promptly collapsed against her bed. "... my battery's dead."

"You'll recharge soon," he said dismissively and shut her door. He walked two steps across the hall to open his own bedroom door and stepped in.

"I'm back," he said quietly, dropping his small backpack to the floor. He walked towards his fish tank, observing the two fish in there; there was a wall dividing the tank in half to keep the two fish apart. On the left side was Loki, a black betta fish with red accents on its fins - it almost made the fish look like it had red claws. On the right side was Robin Hood, a white betta fish with a spadetail; the top fin was blue and made the fish look like it was wearing a cape. "Are you guys hungry?"

Loki swam forward and the flick of his tail seemed to say, _feed me first!_ Robin Hood let out some bubbles, signalling that he was hungry as well. Goro had owned them for a few years now and they were well-behaved when it came to him. If Wakaba, Sojiro, or Futaba attempted to talk with them, the fish would ignore the humans and wait for their owner to return. It was quite endearing, if anything.

"Alright, I'm on it." In a practiced motion, Goro served out little pellets and dropped them into both halves of the tank. Loki swam up before the pellets even hit the surface of the water. "Wow, Loki! I guess I need to feed you a little more..."

Robin Hood seemed more laid-back, swimming towards the bottom of the tank once the pellets hit the decorative sand. The two fish were like night and day compared to one another, but Goro loved them both evenly. He smiled lightly at the sight of both fish eating before putting away their food and walking to his desk to pull out his textbooks.

He sighed to himself. He needed to do tonight's homework and get most of his project done. They had one more night rehearsal this week _and_ their biggest competition of the season on Friday.

The worst part? His thoughts were filled with Kurusu's dumb pick-up lines, the smoothness of the boy's conducting, and how he had offered Goro a high-five when leadership was announced as he said, " _Congrats on drum major again! We'll make a great team for sure._ "

Goro slammed his pen against the wood of his desk with a silent scream. Goddamn it.

The next night rehearsal, they mostly worked on his song - which meant that Kurusu and Yoshizawa were on the field while he stayed at the main podium. He noticed the younger drum major over by the trombones, specifically helping out Futaba after missing out on the last practice. He watched the girls for a few seconds and, knowing that Futaba was in good hands with Yoshizawa, returned his gaze to the rest of the field.

Collectively, the band looked _exhausted_. Despite it being dusk and the lowering temperature of fall air, many bandies were sweating, seemingly about to pass out, or sitting down. It wasn't _Goro's_ fault the song he conducted had a BPM of 168. Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't thankful he was a drum major and didn't need to ~~jazz run~~ march this song in particular.

Goro stretched his arms. As much as he enjoyed the high energy of a fast tempo, his piece was a _bitch_ to conduct. He felt like his arms were going to fall off every time he ran down the steps of the podium to tag Yoshizawa in for her piece. Kurusu had a slower, pseudo-ballad, and Yoshizawa had a pop tune that had a tempo somewhere between Kurusu's and Goro's own.

He sighed, dreamily gazing at the trumpets as he tied his hair back in a low ponytail. He hadn't marched trumpet since his first year and, as annoying as his section could be at times, he sort of missed it. At least there, he had a reprieve from Kurusu and his friends. While the head drum major had friends in all sections, he steered clear of the trumpets. Astounding - Kurusu, the charismatic loved-by-everybody second year, avoided the trumpets like the plague.

Well. Goro shut his eyes with a scoff. The only trumpet Kurusu would talk with was Goro himself.

"Top!" Kurusu called, loud enough to be heard across the entire field. For being such a quiet guy, he sure could sound commanding when he needed to. And he had such a deep, suave voice too-

Goro shuddered at his own thoughts. Nope. Not happening right now. He shook his head slightly and watched as Kurusu and Yoshizawa climbed up their smaller podiums on either side of him, looking towards the brunette to give the tempo. The band director stood on the visitor's side all the way across the field, metronome in hand.

Taking a deep breath, Goro rolled back his shoulders, raised his arms to conduct, and moved in perfect sync with the metronome as he gave the downbeat.

By the end of his piece, he was sweating and - as expected - his arms hurt like a _bitch_. Some members of the band seemed to cheer at the conclusion, glad that the song was finally over. Glancing towards Yoshizawa on his right, the redhead gave him a bright smile and a double thumbs up. He nodded with a slight smirk; he appreciated the girl's enthusiasm and, to be quite honest, he _did_ like working with her as a fellow drum major.

When he glanced towards Kurusu, the boy had a blank expression on his face, completely void of any affect. Then - his glasses caught the light, a dumb grin grew on his face, and he offered a double thumbs up just like Yoshizawa had. Goro scowled and turned back to the field. When Yoshizawa looked at him like that, it was endearing; when Kurusu did it, he just looked like an idiot.

He missed Kurusu's pout, too focused on the instructions the director was announcing. As a matter of fact, Goro ignored Kurusu for the remainder of the rehearsal, barely making eye contact during the switch between their songs. Goro decided to devote himself wholly to the rehearsal and helping the band improve. He wouldn't look at Kurusu's arms, or the sweat beading on his forehead. He definitely wouldn't admire Kurusu's legs as the boy climbed down the podium or anything.

At the end of rehearsal, Goro grabbed his bag and made his way to Futaba, who was currently taking apart her trombone and placing it into her case. Yoshizawa was standing by the girl's side, a bright smile on the redhead's face.

"Oh, Sakura-senpai!" Her eyes widened, watching as Goro approached the two of them. "Great work today!"

Goro offered her a small nod of his head. "Likewise. Your control of the ensemble has greatly improved since the beginning of the season."

"T-Thank you!" She said brightly, putting her hands on her knees and bowing to him.

Goro shook his head. "No need for that," he laughed shortly, "really, you're much too formal."

Yoshizawa pouted, "You _are_ my upperclassman, Sakura-senpai."

Futaba, now finished with putting her trombone away, playfully punched Yoshizawa's shoulder. "You can call him Goro. You guys talk, like, every day!"

"I couldn't," the redhead said quietly, slightly embarrassed. She then looked up towards Goro. "Unless you're truly fine with that?"

Goro huffed a laugh. "I'm... not _opposed_ to it," he admitted honestly.

"Goro-senpai it is," she grinned. "You can call me Sumire!"

The brunette nodded, feeling a smile tug at his lips. "Sumire-san, then."

Futaba took her headphones out of her drawstring backpack and placed them over her ears. "See! That wasn't so hard!"

As though some unexplainable brotherly instinct took over him, Goro stuck a tongue out at his sister. Sumire giggled at the display, reminded of her own sister. Of course, to ruin the lovely moment, Kurusu and his band of friends marched over to the trio.

"Hey Sakura's and Sumire," Kurusu waved. For some reason, he was grinning directly at Goro.

Goro remembered the _why_ in an instant: he still had his tongue stuck out at his sister. Immediately, he pulled it back and gave an extremely tight-lipped smile that seemed to scream _mention it and you're dead_.

"Hey, Akira-senpai!" Sumire smiled at the group of newcomers, "wow, the whole gang is here!"

Sakamoto, the annoyingly loud tenor drum captain, offered her a lopsided grin. "Hell yeah!"

Takamaki, a second year flute player who ate during rehearsals and talked more than she played, groaned at her friend's antics. "Rehearsal was pretty tiring today."

"It wasn't _that_ strenuous," Kitagawa said. Goro honestly didn't mind the clarinet player - he was one of the most tolerable members of Kurusu's friend group.

Futaba lifted up her large case for show. "You play _clarinet_ , Inari!" She pouted. "Try lugging around a trombone for the entire show!"

Niijima, a fellow third year and Goro's main competition for valedictorian, pulled at the large baritone horn case at her feet. "Tell me about it," she groaned.

"Oh, you sweet summer children," Okumura smiled sweetly, folding her hands primly on the top of her sousaphone case.

Kurusu - damn him - smirked at Goro. "You should put your hair up in a ponytail more."

Goro ignored the warmth that crept up his neck. "I got hot conducting my song."

Kurusu - _damn him_ \- winked. Winked! " _Got_ hot? You already _are_ h-"

"Would you look at the time!" Sumire interrupted just as Goro choked on his own spit. "We better all head home so we're well-rested for the comp tomorrow!"

The rest of Kurusu's friends gave awkward agreements in extremely faked levels of enthusiasm. The group seemed to surround the head drum major and forcefully drag him off the field. Sumire waved goodbye to the Sakura's as she followed the gang towards the parking lot.

Once they were out of sight, Goro sighed heavily. "He's insufferable."

Futaba slung an arm around his shoulder and smiled like the gremlin she was. "And _you_ have a crush."

Goro frowned. "I do _not_."

The girl nodded to herself, grabbing the handle of her case. "Stage one of Kübler-Ross' Model. I _see_."

He put his fingers to his temples to hopefully alleviate the headache this conversation bestowed upon him. "You're lucky you're my sister."

In a rare moment of tenderness, Futaba grabbed his arm as they began to walk. "I sure am, you lovable dork."

Goro let a light smile tug at his lips and ruffled his sister's hair, much to Futaba's protest. "Let's hurry before the moon fully rises and you transform into the _Featherman_ villain of the week."

Futaba shut her eyes with how large her grin was. "Sure thing, big bro."

Once they were home and showered, Goro got to work on leftover assignments and chipping away at his big project. His arms still ached from band but it was fine; he could rest when he was finished. He sat hunched over his desk, meticulously writing in calculus answers on a paper worksheet. Despite the earbuds he had in, he heard bubbling in the distance.

Goro stood up immediately, nearly throwing his pen down. He forgot to feed his fish! He hurried over to the tank and, seeing their little faces, he bent down to grab the bag of fish food. "I'm so sorry guys," he said quietly, shaking his head. "I've had a lot on my mind lately."

When he turned back to the tank, Robin's open mouth and bubbles translated to _what's wrong, Goro?_

He sighed, releasing the tension in his shoulders. "Just... the big competition is tomorrow."

Loki seemed to frown. _There's something else_.

Goro filled the two small serving size cups, readying them above either side of the tank. "Some dumb boy being dumb, that's all."

As usual, Loki swam up to eat his pellets while Robin waited for them to reach the ground. Goro watched them for a few moments like a proud dad asking his fish babies, _are ya winning, sons?_

The boy squeezed his eyes shut. "Did I seriously just think that?" He grumbled quietly to himself. To be fair, he was also imagining what his fishes might be saying to him based on their mouths and how many bubbles they emitted but _hey_. He was a proud fish dad.

Goro walked back to his desk, looked down at his nearly finished calculus homework, mumbled, "I'll finish it during lunch," and decided to head to bed. Once his body hit the mattress, the exhaustion in his bones seemed to settle in. Ugh. He was going to need some pain-killers tomorrow if he wanted to survive the comp.

Closing his eyes, he saw a messy mop of black hair, slate gray eyes hidden beneath a ridiculous pair of glasses, and Kurusu's dumb smirk. _"You should put your hair up in a ponytail more."_ Goro scrunched up his nose, pressing his face further into his pillow. _"Got hot? You already are h-"_

Goro smothered his face in his pillow. Kurusu thought he was hot. No - it could just be the boy's usual flirting, done with a stupid smile and a devilish glint in his eyes. It didn't mean anything. Kurusu obviously didn't like him.

And why did Goro care so much? It wasn't like he _liked_ Kurusu. He hated the boy and his dumb hair, dumb eyes, dumb glasses, dumb smirk-

 _Dumb, dumb, dumb_. Goro turned onto his back and pressed his face into his hands. _I'm so dumb_.

The night before Shujin Academy Marching Band's biggest competition of the season, Sakura Goro realized he _may_ have a crush on Kurusu Akira.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Zeiskyte)   
>  [Ko-fi](https://ko-fi.com/zeiskyte)


	2. The Day of The Competition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was having writer's block with this and then I saw ponytail trumpet Goro and then I pumped out this entire chapter today thank you Rokuro Saito for my entire life
> 
> This fic is actually so self-indulgent, I'm glad people besides me are enjoying this. This is really just my own band experiences shoved into a fic. I'm projecting onto literally every character. I just want to say I predicted ponytail trumpet Goro and I'm living the best timeline right now /s
> 
> It's three parts now because marching band Goro has taken over my life!

He's running. The dark buildings blur past him, and he's quick on his feet. There's a glowing sword in his hand, bright and jagged like a lightning bolt. Everything is red red _red_ and-

"Crow!" Somebody yells, and a black-clad figure drops from the sky in a flourish of spins and flips. He slashes at the silhouette before him in an overly showy fashion.

Somehow knowing that the man would jump out of the way, Goro pushes himself off the ground with his momentum. He rears his sword back and lunges - slicing and dicing the _thing_ in front of him. Someone's screaming - _he's_ screaming, but the sound is lost in the cacophony of slashes and tearing and splattering. He slides forward and lands on his feet with a practiced ease.

A gun shot fires behind him, and when Goro turns towards the sound, he sees the fuzzy image of the man's back before him. It's blurry but - messy black curls, a long black tailcoat, dark pants, high-heeled boots...

The red of the man's gloves blurs with his turn, and his tailcoat flares out around his hips. Goro's eyes trail up to the man's face and even beneath the bone-white of a mask, he'd recognize Akira's gunmetal eyes anywhere and he reaches out his hand-

Goro shot up abruptly in his bed with a shout and his hand outstretched. His blankets pooled in his lap. His shirt clung uncomfortably to his torso and his bangs were plastered to his forehead with sweat. Panting heavily, he clutched at his heart. _What the hell was that?_

He squeezed his eyes shut. His heart was hammering in his chest with the throes of adrenaline. Why was he fighting alongside Akira? ... Why was he dreaming of Akira to _begin with?_

Groaning, he opened an eye to check his alarm clock. A quarter after six, meaning he woke up around fifteen minutes before his alarm was set to go off. Ugh. The ache in his arms still reverberated in his bones after his conducting last night; he could use this extra time to patch up so school would be somewhat tolerable. Maybe he'd down a painkiller medication before the competition tonight.

The competition. _That_ was certainly something to think about. In addition to home games, Shujin would march competitively at competitions throughout the Tokyo area. As they were competing against other senior high schools and Shujin's reputation was at stake, Goro took his position of drum major very seriously. So seriously, in fact, that Futaba would constantly poke fun at him.

Anyway. Tonight's competition was their season's largest performance. Marching bands from all over the Kanto region would coalesce at a giant stadium to perform for one another. It took place during the peak of the season, and it was the most opportune time to show off their routine. All eyes were on the band that took the field. If you flopped, everyone would know. On the flip side, if you blew the audience away, _everyone would know_.

Shujin Academy Marching Band's pride rested on tonight's performance, and Goro would make sure this field show would be the best goddamn one _yet_.

And _that_ meant not thinking of ~~Akira~~ _Kurusu_. Goro couldn't allow himself to become distracted over something so trivial.

He swung his legs over the side of his bed and rubbed at his eyes, exhaustion clinging to his bones like a plague. Coffee was a good start. As he took languid steps towards his door, he heard bubbling to his left. Glancing over, Robin Hood's beady eyes stared up at him.

"Early bird as always, huh?" A small smile pulled at the corners of his lips. Robin Hood slept early and rose with the sun, a stark contrast to Loki the night owl. The black and red betta seemed to take the night shift, as if to stay vigilant and watch over Goro at night.

Goro shook his head to brush away the thought. "I'm doing it again," he grumbled to himself as he turned the doorknob and left his room. He glanced towards Futaba's door and debated on waking her up early just to be a pest, but he continued down the stairs after considering it. The girl probably stayed up until some ungodly hour of the morning and would start hissing at him if he turned on her light.

Seeing a coffee cup filled with coffee at his place at the kitchen table, his eyes widened. Dad made a coffee just for him? Usually Sojiro was out of the house and setting up shop at Leblanc before Goro and Futaba woke up for school. Goro walked towards the table and noticed a ripped-off piece of notebook paper next to the coffee.

' _Figured you could use a decent cup of coffee for the big day. See you tonight, kiddo. - Dad'_

Goro cracked a smile as he folded up the note for safekeeping. "What a softie," he mumbled fondly as he slipped his fingers around the cup. The porcelain still had a lingering warmth to the touch, so Sojiro must have made this for him before leaving for Leblanc.

As Goro was savoring the final dregs of his coffee, Futaba trudged her way down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Morning," he chirped, putting on an overly-enthusiastic smile.

Futaba squinted at him from beneath her green throw blanket, her glasses crooked on her nose; she must have shoved them onto her face just so she could see the stairs. "Mornin'," she mumbled, voice heavy with sleep. Yep, she probably stayed up all night like Goro had guessed.

He placed his cup onto the table with a quiet _chink_. "Didn't Sumire say to sleep early?" He watched as his sister sluggishly opened the fridge and pulled out a carton of orange juice. Her cup was already on the counter, probably placed there by Sojiro as well. Goro supposed Sojiro didn't pour anything for her because Futaba's tastes seemed to change by the day. Friday's were orange juice days, apparently.

"I'm a lone ranger and I play by my own rules," she rebutted, filling her cup with orange juice before placing the carton back into the fridge. She dragged her feet towards the table, placed her cup down at her spot, and climbed onto her chair like a monkey. Before he knew it, Futaba was perched on the chair in her usual sitting position.

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah." He stood up and pushed his chair in, taking his cup into his hand. "I need to patch up my arms. I may have overdone it last night."

Futaba's eyes seemed to glint like some kind of _cryptid_. "Thinking about Akira?"

Goro nearly dropped his cup. "I-I was talking about my _conducting_ , you gremlin." He turned on the water and washed his cup, wincing as his arms protested against the movement. He raised his voice slightly to be heard over the running water, "how about _you_ try to conduct at 168 BPM."

"Deflecting, are we?" She sipped at her orange juice. Goro's back was to her so he was unable to parse her expression. "I've seen how you look at him. Just admit it, you tsun tsun."

Goro turned his cup over in the drainer and shut off the faucet. Spinning around to look at his sister, he fixed her with a baffled expression. "... What the hell is a 'tsun tsun'."

Futaba grinned, hands clasped around her cup. "You'll find out eventually," she said devilishly. "Now go patch up and go talk to your fish or something."

Goro sputtered, the tips of his ears flushing red. "Where did you get that idea? I don't-"

She swatted him away. "I can _hear_ _you_ , you dummy. Now _go!_ "

With a groan, Goro turned around and headed back up the stairs and into the bathroom. How embarrassing. He found his pain-relieving patches and athletic tape in the medicine cabinet. As he clicked the mirror back into place, he analyzed himself in his reflection. Before his thoughts caught up with him, he reached his hand back and pulled his hair into a ponytail. He turned his head slightly and observed himself in the mirror. Akira had said-

Goro's eyes widened and he dropped his hair in an instant. He pressed his reddening face into his hands. "What the hell is _wrong_ with me?"

He hated Kurusu. Didn't he? He hated Kurusu for stealing head drum major from him. He was a year Goro's junior and shattered his senior high dream. Kurusu was his _rival_. Goro shouldn't have... _other_ kinds of feelings about him.

Goro forced himself to take a breath. He needed to get ready for classes. Kurusu was a _distraction_. A pretty, too hot for his own good distraction - but a distraction, nonetheless.

Pressing patches to his wrists and wrapping his forearms, elbows, and shoulders, he focused solely on the repeated motions of the athletic tape going around and around his skin. It was a good thing Shujin had already switched to winter uniforms; he could hide all of this tape under his blazer. His peers didn't need to know how reckless he was with his own health.

Once he was done, he returned his supplies to the medicine cabinet. He proceeded to brush his teeth and apply a small amount of cover-up to his face. He had appearances to keep up, after all.

He headed back to his room, packed up his unfinished homework and textbooks, and slung his messenger bag over his shoulder. Truthfully, Goro wanted a briefcase-style bag. It would make him look older and more professional. Maybe for university, he could get a customized one. Brushing the thoughts aside, he snatched his gloves from his desk and slipped them on. He offered a passing smile to Robin Hood before exiting his room.

As Futaba was currently in the bathroom, Goro decided to head downstairs and wait in the living room for her. When he passed through the kitchen, he picked up the folded-up note from Sojiro and slipped it into his messenger bag. Plopping down onto the couch, he grabbed his phone from his pocket and scrolled through his notifications.

> **Mom:** Have a good day at school, honey!
> 
> **Mom:** Dad and I won't be able to make the bus, so we'll drive up and meet the band there. See you tonight. Make sure your sister doesn't lose her trombone again!!

Goro stifled a laugh. During a junior high trip, Futaba put her trombone down because she spotted somebody from a different band with a matching set of GreenGold and GreenBlue buttons on their clarinet case and raced over to scream at them because - in Futaba's words - "we're, like, the same person." Of course, that led to Futaba's trombone being swept away in the crowd. It never turned up at the school's lost and found, so Futaba started using a Shujin trombone until the Sakura's could afford a new one for her.

> **Goro:** Haha. Will do. See you tonight. :)

He scrolled mindlessly through social media for a few minutes before Futaba scrambled into the living room. He looked up from his phone and powered it off, slipping it into his pocket. "Ready for school?"

She adjusted her headphones and offered him a grin. "Nope, but that doesn't change anything!"

He fondly smiled with a small roll of his eyes. "Let's go."

Classes passed by as slow as ever. Goro blamed the persistent ache in his bones and how taking notes sent a shot of pain lancing up his entire left arm. When he attempted using his right arm, the same thing occurred. He was so screwed for tonight.

During lunch, he gritted his teeth through the remainder of his calculus homework and ignored the pangs of hunger. He forgot to pack food and he hadn't eaten breakfast either. Whatever. He could eat when he got home.

Suddenly, there was a finger on his paper pointing at one of his equations. "You forgot to include the limit," Niijima said as she took a seat next to him. She looked at him out of the corner of her eye with a small smile. "Is my salutatorian getting rusty?"

Goro's nose scrunched up in annoyance as he penciled in the missing part of his equation. "No, but your _valedictorian_ is."

"We'll see once we get our test scores back." Niijima leaned back and folded her arms over her chest with a hum. "You excited for tonight?"

He continued writing and re-writing his derivatives with a small frown. "Right now? To be honest, I'm a little anxious," he admitted earnestly. "I'll be excited when we take home the first place trophy."

"Competitive in all aspects of life," she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Have you eaten anything today?"

Goro's eyes flicked to her in surprise before settling back on his worksheet. "Doesn't matter."

Niijima sighed and reached into the bag at her side. After a few moments of rummaging through its contents, she retrieved an apple and brandished it in front of him. "Here. You need to eat something."

"That's yours, Niijima-chan. I don't-"

"First off," she placed it down onto the worksheet, "just call me Makoto. Second, _you need to eat_."

After a moment, he sighed. "Thank you, Makoto-chan."

Makoto stood up and grabbed her bag. "By the way," she smirked, "you have the entire equation backwards. Good luck, Goro-kun!"

Before Goro could rebut, the girl had left. He stared at the paper, dropped his pencil with a grumble, and took a bite from the apple.

By the time band rolled around, Goro was certain his arms would fall off. Class rehearsal was shorter than their night practices, but still - he'd be conducting four pieces. He could take it easy during Kurusu's piece, considering he was on a side podium for the opener and there was a greater chance most eyes would be on Kurusu. He would let loose on his piece, conducting a controlled chaos as always, and recuperate during Sumire's piece and the short tagline song at the end of the show.

"Goro-senpai!" Sumire called from the track once she caught sight of him. She met him at the main podium, panting to catch her breath. "Are you ready for tonight?"

He gave a slight shrug; he bit back a wince at the zap of pain in his shoulder. "Ready _enough_ , I suppose."

Sumire's eyebrows furrowed in concern. "You're hurt."

Goro cursed himself inwardly. Sumire was too attentive for her own good. "I'll be fine," he said, forcing a smile onto his face, "I'll take some painkillers before the show tonight."

The redhead frowned. "Please take care of yourself, Goro-senpai. Your health is important, you know."

Goro felt like he had heard those words before. He allowed his smile to grow genuine, softening the look in his eyes. "Thank you, Sumire-chan." He gestured towards the three podiums to their right. "We better head up."

Sumire nodded, reciprocating his smile. "Yep. Let's do our best today!"

As the girl skittered towards her podium, Goro let out a sigh. He could rest tonight after the performance. He was in the home stretch, he could see the light at the end of the tunnel -

An arm was slung over his shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts. "No ponytail today?"

Goro jumped back, mouth agape. "Kurusu!" He hissed. His heart was hammering in his chest and Goro felt as if he was burning up. When did it get so hot?

Kurusu pouted. "Can't you just call me Akira?" He seemed genuinely dejected. "Literally no one calls me Kurusu."

Goro swallowed past the lump in his throat. His mouth was unbearably dry. Hadn't he just downed half of his water bottle? What the hell. "Shouldn't you be on your podium by now?" He asked accusingly. _Please just leave me alone_. "We're about to start."

Kurusu's gray eyes flicked towards the band gathering onto the turf. "Oh, you're right."

How had this idiot gotten head drum major? Goro seethed internally. What has leadership come to?

Kurusu _winked_ at him. "You're quite the distraction, Goro."

What the hell.

Goro fought against the twitching in his eye and plastered a fake smile onto his face. "I never said you could call me that."

"We're friends," Kurusu said, as if it were the simplest thing in the world, "so call me Akira."

"Whatever," Goro huffed. He stomped towards his podium and climbed up the steps with more force than necessary, causing the metal to vibrate beneath his feet. He was already sweating and rehearsal hadn't even started.

Ugh. Before he could second guess himself, he found a hairtie in his pocket and put his hair up in a low ponytail. It was only because he wanted his hair off his neck, not because Akira said he looked good in a ponytail. Because that would be _stupid_.

During Akira's piece, Goro found his eyes wandering to the main podium. With such a commanding air to his conducting, Akira drew all eyes to him effortlessly. If Goro allowed his mind to wander, he could picture Akira in the flashy tailcoat from his dream.

Goro felt his face heat up. No. Not right now. He gritted his teeth and forced himself to focus on the field. The pain in his arms served as a good distraction from... his initial distraction. It was perfect timing, considering it was the final fermata that ended the song. As soon as he gave the closing sweep of his arms, he flew down the steps of his podium.

Akira flashed him a toothy smile as they high-fived. "Baton pass," he chirped.

"I hate you."

Goro clambered up the main podium as quickly as he could. Their field show was timed and he wouldn't allow himself to hold up their performance. Once he was stationed at the top, he felt like he was standing at the apex of the world. All eyes were on him.

He raised his arms, frowned against the protesting pain in his bones, and began to conduct.

At the conclusion of his piece, Goro stepped backwards and put his foot on the top step. When he climbed down the podium in his haste, his arm spasmed and he nearly lost his footing. Luckily, he caught himself and reached the turf. When he tagged Sumire in, she fixed him with a stern look.

"Take it easy!" She narrowed her eyes at him as if she were his mother. He offered her a tiny nod, reluctant in his stubbornness.

While Sumire made it to the top of the main podium in record time like the gymnast she was, Goro barely reached his spot for the downbeat. He was off his game and saw stars when he extended his arms too far out. This couldn't be happening. _The biggest competition of the season was tonight._ There was no way he could conduct the entire show in this kind of condition.

By the end of the tag, Goro was gritting his teeth through the pain. He was so, so screwed. Once he was on the ground, Sumire ran up to meet him.

"Senpai, what did I tell you!"

She put her arms on his biceps and Goro pulled back at the pain that shot through his arms like lightning. Sumire gasped, regret spreading across her features. "I-I'm sorry!"

Goro shook his head. "It's far from _your_ fault." He cursed under his breath. Damn it. "I'll just... get through tonight and be done with it."

His voice was tentative; he wasn't even certain he _could_ get through tonight. It wasn't surprising at all when Sumire took a step closer and narrowed her eyes at him in determination. "Goro-senpai, you need to take care of yourself. I'm sure if you step down for tonight, Akira can cover for you."

Something in Goro _snapped_.

"I can't step down. This is _our biggest performance_." He felt like a cornered bear, poked one too many times. "And there's no way in _hell_ I'd let Akira conduct my piece in my place."

Just as Sumire was about to rebut, Akira stepped over and placed his hand on her shoulder. She gasped in surprise, red eyes flicking to him. "Akira-senpai?"

Akira stared down at Goro, gray eyes sharp with determination. "Goro," he said, looking very much the part of a disappointed father, " _anyone_ could see how much pain you were in. You need to sit out tonight."

Goro clenched his hands into fists, muscles burning in pain. He used the pain to fuel his anger, digging his heels in and standing his ground. "Absolutely _not_ ," he hissed. "I'll rest after the show."

Honestly, Goro would love to swallow his pride and collapse where he was. His veins felt ready to pop out and his bones sent shocks of pain up his arm with every movement. But admitting defeat meant Akira would conduct his piece. Admitting he needed help meant he _lost_.

Seeing the concern in Akira's eyes, Goro felt his heart drop into his stomach. Akira - charismatic, kind, always ready to lend a hand; Goro realized in an instant why the boy had gotten head drum major.

Goro was reckless. He didn't know his own limits and he acted like a self-destructive animal. The majority of the band only listened to him because they were _afraid of him_. He was no leader.

Compared to him, Akira was the paragon of perfection. He listened to others' problems and was always the first to lend a helping hand. Everyone looked up to Akira because he was _perfect_.

"Hey," Akira began placatingly, reaching out his arm. Goro glared at it. "If you're so insistent on conducting tonight, just... take it easy until then, alright?"

Sumire stepped in as well. "And _please_ rest after the show tonight."

Goro allowed his fingers to curl back out of being fists, biting back his gasp of pain at the motion. "Fine," he said derisively. He would meet them halfway. "I'll... I'll do that. Stop worrying so much."

Akira and Sumire shared a look. Goro frowned before he could school his expression into something more neutral.

"See you tonight, senpais," Sumire said quietly, "I can't miss my train."

"See you tonight," Goro echoed. He wasn't mad at Sumire - he could _never_ be mad at Sumire.

"Bye, Sumire," Akira said with a wave, "I'll text you, alright?"

The redhead stared back in confusion before realization struck her. She nodded, "O-Okay!"

With that, she scampered away, leaving Goro and Akira by themselves. Joy.

Goro glared daggers at the other boy; Akira didn't even flinch, unaffected by Goro's hostility once Sumire left.

The brunette allowed his shoulders to sink with a sigh. "What the hell do you want from me." He said, not even phrasing it as a question. It lacked the venom of a threat. Goro was so, so tired. Why couldn't Akira just leave him alone?

The head drum major had a slight downward turn to his lips. "Am I not allowed to be worried for you?"

Goro felt like his chest was being weighed down by anvils. Akira sounded _genuine_. It made Goro feel _sick_.

In a rare moment of vulnerability, Goro dropped his gaze to his feet and let out a shuddering breath. "Why don't you hate me?" He asked quietly. "All I do is insult you and get angry at you when you insinuate that we're... _we're_..."

"We _are_ friends," Akira finished for him. "I... I know you were upset when I got head drum major over you. It wasn't my choice."

As Goro stayed silent, Akira continued. "I don't think any less of you, you know. You're one hell of a musician and a conductor." He huffed a short laugh. "I'm envious of how much control you have over the band. You're honestly _captivating_."

Goro was sure there was glass in his throat when he finally spoke up. "Ironic. That's exactly how I see you."

Akira must have been smiling, considering how happy his voice sounded. "No wonder we're rivals."

Goro's head shot up. He had never told Akira that. How had...?

Akira's grin grew wider. "Guess my hunch was right," he laughed. "Well. I need to catch my train as well. Take care of yourself, alright?"

Goro blinked past his stupor. He was still caught up in the sound of Akira's laughter. "Sure," he said. "See you tonight."

Once again, Akira winked at him. "See you tonight, Goro."

And for once, Goro decided not to correct him. "Bye, Akira."

Even after Akira had crossed the entire field and made it to the gates, Goro was rooted in place. They were officially rivals, huh.

He let his head fall as a blush spread across his face. They were also officially _friends_ , weren't they?

"Goroooo!" Futaba called, running up to him. He looked up in an instant. "Come _on!_ We're gonna miss the train if you stand there like an NPC!"

Goro nodded and fell into step with her. "I'm downing a painkiller and falling into a coma when we get home. Don't wake me up."

Futaba swung her trombone case at her side with a toothy smile. "Sure thing, big bro."

And once they had barely made the train and headed home, Goro did just that. When he shut his eyes, he dreamed of messy dark curls, a black tailcoat, and red gloves pulling him into a kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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